Apocalypse
by differenttruck
Summary: They looked up to the sun and watched as it turned to blood.
1. Chapter 1

**Apocalypse**

By differenttruck

Author's Notes: This is a BIG AU fic, which means that if you're not really a fan of this, do not bother to read. Basically what I've done is kept all the old characters in their positions they were in Season One, but moved them through the storylines of Season Two and Three. This does deal with a sense of the "end of the world" kind of topic and yes, there will be more to come. This is not the only chapter.

**Danny.**

Shattered glass cracks beneath you, sharp pain runs through your veins; blood covers your eyes in a veil of its own as you hear faint screams in the distant. You smell the familiar smell of death and your stomach turns. Something was not right. There's something large on your back, pressing you closer and closer to the ground as you inhale sharply, trying to figure out where the hell you are.

More cries, more pleas and you're not sure how much you can take it.

You go to move what you believe is a large piece of wood from your body but discovers that your body has been broken into various places and it makes you wince in pain as you struggle underneath the grip of the wood. You've broken at least a couple fingers, your right arm and a couple ribs. Your body is screaming for you to stay put, maybe someone will help, but you're not sure how much of the crying and pleas you can take before you break.

Teeth, digging into your lower lip, you use all the strength you can manage and by using your left elbow, you cope with lifting your body just enough to feel some of the heavy wood slide a little further off your body. Tears sting your eyes, the pain is unbearable, but you continue what you've started.

**Stella.**

You dial Mac's cell number again and place it close to your ear as you stumble across the cracked road. Various bodies are scattered along the roads and sidewalks, limbs hanging from trees and you cover your mouth with your free hand to keep the bile down. You've seen enough dead bodies in your life but this is way too much.

You hear the constant sound of the rings in your ear and for the fifth time, or sixth, you've lost count, you leave another message in Mac's voicemail. _Mac, its Stella. Listen, where the hell are you? I've been trying to reach you for god knows how long and I just…I just need to find someone I know. So please, call me back as soon as you get this. _

Various cuts cover your flesh; cover your body in a story you have yet to discover. The ground moans, the sky falls and you can not imagine a time like this when you have felt so alone and filled with despair. The sun is not the sun you've seen all your life. The sun that bleeds in the sky is covered by dark, red clouds, hiding it's presence from the desperate world beneath it.

You're one of the lucky ones (that's what they call you, fifty some years from now as they read their books on planets such as Mars), one of the lucky few who've managed to come out of the attack with your body in minor cuts. You're healthy and coherent, able to take it what they're receiving but as you stumble across the broken debris and dust covered corpses, you can not help but whisper to yourself that you're not the lucky one, in fact, you're the only living soul who has not found their safe place to the heavens.

**Flack.**

It feels like déjà vu all over again. Something hard is probing into your intestines, warm blood seeps down the side of your face, and you wonder how long it's been since you have rested in this trap. The accident, the whole flash of light, it all happened so quickly that it left you no time to react, none what so ever to save what ever life you could possible have.

The unexpected, the unexplained…all happened and there was nothing you could do about it. You remember the stories that were told when you were a child, remember all the tales of the day in which earth would surrender itself to the dark world beyond. The tales found you every night when you were younger, taunting you with the unexplained and just after your mother had kissed you goodnight and closed your door for the night, and you would quickly hide under your covers with your flashlight, the only safety you could find.

But that was when they were silly old tales, something that was forgotten the morning after but not today. No, today it was reality and as you coughed up the blood in your throat, you knew that maybe the tale that had been haunting you for so many years was trying to prepare you better for this day. Maybe if you had listened to those stories, took in the precautions that were needed, perhaps someone else would be buried beneath the rubble other than you.

The metal roars above you and you curse silently under your breath. You know you're losing too much blood, you can feel your body going numb; can feel the shortness in breath, all the many signs to indicate that your internal clock was almost up. You knew the Angel of Death was standing some many feet away, ready to take you when you were done but no, you were not ready. You wanted to live.

You struggled to escape, tried to push the pieces of the broken ceiling off your body but instead were greeted with the metal at your side ripping through your intestines even more.

You felt the hot tears slide down your cheeks as you tried to push again but the metal greeted you once more.

The Angel of Death stepped further into the room.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two._

**Aiden. **

The taste of metallic lingers in your mouth, stings your tongue, bleeds your teeth as you spit at the ground, disgusted at the sign of weakness you have surrendered to. You wipe at your mouth with the sleeve of your jacket as you continue your solemn walk down what was once known as the city you bared you tongue with. Your dark curls are covered in dust of those who had been burned alive at the very beginning, their screams still etched into your ears reminding you of the terror you had just survived from. Your legs ache, bruises dance across your flesh and you wipe at the sweat on your forehead as you trip over a discarded leg and cover your mouth to keep the bile from making its presence.

Screams echo off the vacant, shattered buildings, surrounding you in a mask of despair and hope. Your heels hit the cracked concrete filled with dried blood while your hands run up and down your arms to keep the goose bumps buried.

But as you make your voyage to the heart of the destruction, you hear a familiar voice cry out in aid. It's familiar that you stop and face the pile of rubble besides you. Blood seeps out from underneath and a hand twitches in the broken sunlight. Panic fills your veins and you fall to knees, pulling away the debris as fast as you can. It cuts deep into your skin, own shards of your flesh fall but your heart is set on removing the debris and you do so until the face looking back up at you knocks you off your feet.

"Don?" You choke as hot tears burn your eyes. No one should ever find their find in a condition as so. "Oh My God, Don." You whisper, hands gently reaching for him as with much difficulty, manage to free him from the pile of debris.

His face is covered with dirt and blood, his once sharp blue eyes now filled with hollow emptiness and his body feels so cool to the touch that you may have believed in an odd and twisted way, you had received some sort of frost bite. His breathes are short and shallow, reminding you that he's not too far away from the heavens above and you lay him down gently on the ground before you begin to rip at the sleeves on your jacket.

"Keep your eyes open for me, 'kay?" You plead, dabbing his face gently with the corner of the material. "I need you to be able to talk to me, to make sure that you're still breathin' 'cause honestly? I don' wanna carry you." But as you tend to his wounds, you know that you're going to _have to_ carry him because if you do not, he dies.

The sky roars above you as you press your fingers to the side of his neck to feel his faint yet steady pulse.

**Hawkes.**

You stop to bend over and empty your stomach, the smell of death and blood lingers in your nose. It's been your fifth time that hour, empting shards of bile onto the solid and cracked concrete. Perhaps it's the numerous dismembered bodies covering the ground that makes you puke, or maybe it's the fact that not too long ago, you had been a doctor hidden behind a surgeon's mask working with bodies and souls such as this to try and save their life. You hear screams, hear the pleas but you know what needs to be done and as you wipe the bile off from your lips, you stand up tall and take in deep breathes.

You gaze around the horrific scene and try to make sense with yourself. You're capable in helping anyone (you just have bruises, they're no big deal) so you pull your jacket off from your body and immediately run to the aid of a man who lies on the ground, blood pouring from his wounds.

"Sir, I just need you to stay with me." You say in between shaky breaths as fear slowly begins to emit in the man's eyes. "No," you assure him, resting your medically-trained hands on his shoulder gently, "trust me, I'm a Doctor."

And it's only those words that seemed to make the man fall completely under your spell.

**Mac.**

You've lost your cell phone somewhere in the attack, your only connection to your team and anyone else that could assist you in the steps of recovering. You know Stella, if she has held onto hers, has probably left numerous of messages of hopes that you are out there safe and well.

You shake the thought of your head as you climb from the broken vehicle you were trapped in. On your way to a crime scene, you had gone alone (something you regret doing) you, as everyone else, had seen the bright light, watched as it devoured the sky whole before the sudden blow of the attack. Your vehicle flew backwards, tumbling against roadsides and sidewalks before coming to a complete a final stop. You may be no surgeon, but you as sure hell knew that you've broken at least a couple bones. But you have Marine blood inside you and you were not going to let a couple broken bones stop you from finding your team.

So, with more difficulty than you imagine, you pull your shattered body away from the vehicle and lean against a broken tree. Dust lingers in the air, dried blood rests as your feet and in a sick and twisted way, it reminds you of that Tuesday morning six years ago. Six years ago this city was covered in dirt and blood the same was it was now. This same dirt, filled with the burned bodies of the victims from the recent attack, just like those in 9/11.

Your stomach flips and you cover your mouth, not because you want to stop the urge from emptying your lunch contents in your stomach, but because you want to avoid inhaling the remains of lost human souls.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

**Danny.**

By the time the blood-soaked sun rises in the morning, you're trudging your heavy feet along the broken pieces of gravel, sweat pouring down the back of your neck. Your glasses are covered in dirt, sweat and blood and yet every time you try to wash away the devastation that lingers across your lens, it just smears and makes a bigger mess than intended.

"Shit!" You swear as you trip over a small rock, wincing in pain still from the attack with the large piece of wood that fell on you last evening. The wood has given you a couple splinters in your cracked skin but it does not keep you from moving forward. Your muscles ache from pain and hot tears sting your eyes.

You wish Louie was here right besides you, a hand on your shoulder and a reassuring voice to tell you that it was alright. But you knew things weren't, they could not possibly be. You knew Louie was dead, there's no doubt about it. No way could a man close to a vegetated state be worth saying in a time like this. None of the nurses, no matter how sweet and good-hearted they are, would ever dare to set foot into Louie's room and risk their lives over his.

_Come on, Dan._ He says inside your head, the voice so close yet so far. _Pick up your fuckin' feet and get a move on here. You 'aint dyin' yet so come on. _

You try so hard, just so hard, to keep those tears from falling when his voice echoes throughout your ears, rubbing at your hands to keep yourself mentally calm, just anything so you don't fall down and mentally kill yourself.

_Remember what Pop said 'bout bein' strong, Danny? _

You nod. "Yeah, 'member."

_So do it. Stop bein' a pussy and go do it, Dan. Do what ever ya gotta do to be strong._

So without any hesitation, you turn around and make your long and treacherous walk to Louie's hospital, your head held high.

**Aiden.**

"Come on, Don." You whisper as you gently dab the damp cloth to the side of his face, his breaths barely audible to the human ear. "Ya know when this is all over, we're gonna find everyone and everythin' will be back to normal." You reach over and gently brush away a strand of hair from his face. "Back to normal, I promise, 'kay?"

You're surprised at how well you are able to take care of him and so relieved when you woke the next morning to find his pulse still there. You've been doing all that you could to take care for him, running to find any source of food and water you could find, removing your jacket and ripping sleeves of your shirt to preventing more blood lost.

He coughs and blood pours from his mouth for the fifth time that morning. "Shit, Don." You grab the blood-soaked cloth and wipe at his mouth. "I hate seein' you like this."

You dab a couple more times at his mouth before gently wrapping your arms around his shoulders and carefully pulling him to you.

Screams echo against the buildings, burning fires roar into the sky and you gently rock with Don in your arms, your cheek resting against the top of his head, his small black spikes of his hair probing into your flesh.

Children run by, their faces etched with fear, clothes ripped and covered with dirt. It's a horrible sight to see and you close your eyes tightly, trying to block out all that surrounds you as you hold onto the dying man that you have fallen in love with.

**Stella. **

The gun on your hip is heavy with weight, your hands inch towards it with every step you take. It's a habit you're slowly developing – reaching for the only source that could end all of this forever.

But you're the Statue of Liberty, you don't end your misery by giving in and as your fingers gently just brush against the metal, you quickly pull them away as if poison bites at your fingertips.

You've given up trying to reach Mac and tossed your dead cell phone to the side, no longer needing it anymore. You decided that if there was any place in the world to go to find at least any comfort in your heart, you were to go to the Crime Lab.

Since that has, at least, become your home away from home.


	4. Chapter 4

_I apologize for any mistakes. I know I am long overdue with updating and so I hope that this is quite alright for you all. I'm thinking about starting up another little small piece in between these to get my sanity back. Not sure exactly how._

**Hawkes **

You did it _again_.

The corpse lies in your arms, his open and hollowed eyes staring right back up at you as you swallow to keep the bile down. Dried blood cracks at the corners of his lips, his flesh turning chill to the touch and you slowly drop him from your arms, watching as he lifeless limbs shatter against the splintered ground.

Another human being losses their life in front of you.

_This 'aint your type of work, Sheldon. You're not cut out to be a doctor or what ever type of medical shit you want to pull. You can't do it and your mom and I have been trying to tell you since the moment you wanted to get into this business. We told you there were other things to do. You could have been a lawyer, a teacher, even appear on television but no, you did not want to do that. You just wanted to get into this business as fast as you can, ignoring all the little detours that showed you warnings of what was to come. _

Your father's voice rings in your ears, deafening your hearing and you collapse to the ground on your knees, hands covering your ears in an attempt to silence the past and the pain that has found you once again. "I did it because I want to help people." You whisper, the words barely escaping chapped lips as the city roars beneath you.

_You're not even helping yourself, damnit. Who the hell do you think you are? Don't get me wrong Sheldon, we tried to believe in you in the beginning, but when you started going crazy and switching jobs left and right, we became discouraged and concerned. We wanted to be there for you but when the gut feeling of trying to pull you out came, we followed it. Too bad you did not as well._

You will not allow yourself to cry, will not. Your father and mother still love you, they still welcome you with open arms and it's not your fault that the bodies die, not your fault at all. You tried, tried to give them the wings to save themselves from their pain but it was not enough.

You begin to slam your fists into the ground, hands cracking against the shattered concrete, blood pouring from the open wounds as you begin to scream all the years of the pain and hatred out at one time. You're not sure how much you can take of this anymore. You believed at one point and time you had everything solved and figured out. Everything was going to be fine and you had finally found the puzzle that the pieces fitted in but as you lie devastated and desperate, tears of hate pour down the sides of your face.

_Look what you've done._

**Flack**

You can feel her hands; feel her delicate touch against your burning and cracked skin as she works on trying to save you. Tears fall from her eyes, words of hope drip off her lips but the both of you know that a miracle is needed to save you.

You've lost pints of blood, leaving your body in shock and slowly retreating itself away from the despair of the world staring right back at you in the face. You can not keep this battle up any longer; you're just not strong enough.

"Don…" her voice pleads, hands reaching out to gently touch your broken face. "Please, Don. Just wake up. I just need you to open your eyes and at least say something…I can't loose you, baby."

You want to open your mouth and speak words of comfort to her, want to tell her that everything will be alright and that in a couple of days you'll be able to hold her in your arms and whisper goodnight kisses along her body but you know that will never happen again. Never again will you be able to tell the woman you cherish the most that you love her again. Never will she know that back at your shattered apartment, laid the ring you were meaning to give to her Saturday evening.

Coughing up the last of your blood, you slowly manage to turn your head to face her, your eyes never opening as you manage your last ounce of air to her. "…I love you, Aid and I wanted to spend…wanted to spend the rest…of my life with you."

**Danny**

Darkness swallows you whole as you enter the shattered hospital, pushing debris out of your way as you head deeper into the pitch black. You know the chances of anyone still alive is close to zero but just the little amount of hope in your heart disagrees and encourages you to continue.

You cough, dust exiting from your lungs, as you trip over an overturned gurney. Covering your mouth, you make your way down the familiar hallway you've taken so many times before. Despite the fact that the dangers of the building collapsing on you and instantly crushing your bones, you walk the sorrow walk towards your brother's room.

_Promise I'll never let you down, Dan-no. Pap told us to keep together, keep strong and that's what I gotta do to keep us alive. _


End file.
